


Pressure and Release

by Risahn



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Barebacking, Dirty Talk, Domestic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Jin is patient with her dumb dads, M/M, PWP, Passive-aggression, Porn with Feelings, Riding, Seung-gil is being driven insane, but yeah they're in love, it's adorable, messiness, minimal plot, phichit is oblivious, slight praise kink, slightly OCD!Seung-gil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 04:57:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11960181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Risahn/pseuds/Risahn
Summary: Seung-gil is too busy looking forward to his weekend with Phichit to fully consider what he's gotten himself into. But when Phichit shows up and shows little regard for his orderly space, tension starts to build.Seung-gil learns that living life means accepting messes, and dating Phichit shows him that not all messes are bad.





	Pressure and Release

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy this shameless adventure in combining porn with minimal amounts of character development. The idea of Seung-gil coping with Phichit being messy popped into my head one day, and thus this one-shot was born. I should be doing schoolwork or working on my WIP, but w/e
> 
> This is unbetaed, so all mistakes are my own.
> 
>  
> 
> TW: Seung-gil is slightly OCD, is kind of triggered by the word "neurosis", and has something analogous to a short panic attack. But don't worry, Phichit is #1 supportive boyfriend, and Jin is #1 supportive dog
> 
>  
> 
> Edit: Props to those who read this without any of the italics

Seung-gil had been dating Phichit for seven months now, and considered himself well-versed in his boyfriend’s idiosyncrasies and mannerisms. When 94.7% of your relationship is long-distance, you tend to pick up on personality quirks and facial tics relatively quickly, as it’s all you can really see of each other.

For instance, despite how stoic people claimed Seung-gil was, it only took Phichit a month of Skype calls, texts, and Instagram stalking to figure out Seung-gil’s unique form of expressionless emotion. From his blank looks to his blank looks, and even his extra blank looks, Phichit became an expert. Apparently he gives away far more emotion with “the weight and intentions behind his words,” whatever that means.

Then there was Phichit, one of the most open books Seung-gil had ever encountered. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and had no trouble being communicative about both positive and negative feelings. He visibly enjoyed even the most boring of Seung-gil’s stories about life in Korea (“Seriously, nose jobs are that much of a thing?!”) and skating practice (“Only ten hours of practice today? Hah, weak!”), and he delighted in sharing his own daily happenings (“I think Celestino is missing his old hairstyle.”) and related events.

Their relationship was comfortable, yet still held a bit of its initial shine. Seung-gil secretly and foolishly wished it would never fade out completely.

All of this was used as justification behind the decision which put him in his current predicament. The rose-tinted glasses of their relatively new relationship had made him believe a weekend visit would be perfect for them. He was now suffering through the outcome of that foolishness.

He'd originally had the idea when he and Phichit were in the middle of one of their more… amorous video calls.

“I wish I could – Seung-gil I want to suck you off,” Phichit had been panting.

“I want you to,” he'd replied, voice perfectly level and not at all rough at the gorgeous picture Phichit made on his laptop screen.

“Wanna feel you – taste you,” Phichit had moaned, voice far less steady than Seung-gil’s had definitely been.

“Wish you were here to do that,” he'd uncharacteristically responded, impeccably put together and not at all coming undone at the very fabric of his being.

“Wait, really? Are you being serious?”

“Um… yes?”

This interaction was the first step of the downward spiral that led to Seung-gil’s foolishness. Once the call had… served its purpose, they’d decided that he would stay at Seung-gil’s apartment, as Phichit only had a twin size bed in his studio apartment. They’d planned out various activities they could do in Seoul, but nothing too important (in case something more… amorous required their attention). Seung-gil had been looking forward to the weekend, borderline ecstatic in his typical aloof way. (“Aww you look so happy and excited! It's super cute!”)

He was excited because this weekend could be like a trial run of sorts, a glimpse into a future that they could potentially share together, that Seung-gil very much wanted to spend with him. If this weekend went well, then Seung-gil would feel less apprehensive about their nebulous futures, more sure in his and Phichit’s ability to coexist together.

Blindly, he hadn’t allowed himself to think about what it’d mean if this weekend went poorly.

After retrieving Phichit from the airport and engaging in a rather embarrassing (but satisfying) display of public affection, they’d proceeded back to Seung-gil’s apartment in a very orderly fashion, where they then engaged in the obligatory two rounds of the I-haven't-felt-you-in-months sex (“Phichit, I feel like you're just making that up.” “No, no, I swear it's a thing! Now take off your shirt, I'm in _withdrawal_.”), which was apparently typical of long-distance relationships.

Lying in bed next to Phichit, who'd been dozing peacefully with his cheek resting on Seung-gil’s shoulder, he’d been… content. And warm. And smiling absurdly.

When Phichit woke up and stepped over his messily strewn clothing on the way both to and from the bathroom, Seung-gil didn’t spare it a second thought. When Seung-gil frowned down at the two used condoms Phichit had thrown onto the floor in the heat of the moment, he briefly considered how they'd not been aimed at the nearby trash can, but was ultimately unconcerned. Then when Phichit ripped off his sheets to get a better angle at which to torture Seung-gil (“It's called tickling, you big baby.”), and did not replace them to their original position when they went to the kitchen in search of food, Seung-gil was somewhat wary.

But now there were dirty dishes cluttering his sink, and stray splatters of sauce malevolently sitting on his countertop. There was a hair on his sponge, his _sponge_ , and he was forced to throw it out and replace it with another sitting in a pack under the sink.

Phichit was lounging on the couch in his boxers and one of Seung-gil’s shirts, removing his heavily smudged makeup and dropping the used tissues on the low table. As some of them rolled into the floor, he innocently laughed at a variety show on the TV, propping his bare feet up on the table, and allowing Jin up on the couch with him.

He knew she was only allowed up on special occasions. He’d gone _too_ _far_.

Only four hours into this weekend, Seung-gil was beginning to have doubts – not regarding his and Phichit’s romantic relationship, but regarding how easily he'd assumed this weekend would unfold. The casual manner Phichit used to approach his living space was disconcerting, to say the least.

Seung-gil hated messes with a white-hot passion, steadfastly refusing to call it neurosis but well aware that it was an… unconventional obsession. He took careful steps to keep his space as sleek and sanitary as possible. But sadly, when Phichit looked at the sharp lines and muted surfaces in Seung-gil’s home, he’d taken them as an invitation to add his own disorganization. When he saw a clean slate, a black and white canvas, freshly fallen snow, he desperately wanted to mess them up. That was simply Phichit’s personality, and in hindsight this was all inevitable.

This was going to be a challenging weekend.

“Seung-gil, come over here!” Phichit waved from the couch, inviting Seung-gil to sit on _his_ _own_ _couch_. “Watch, watch, this guy is _hilarious_.”

Sighing at his too late revelation and resigning himself to the inevitable, Seung-gil walked over and plopped himself down. “What show is it?”

“I don’t know,” Phichit grinned excitedly, wrapping himself around Seung-gil and leaning his head on his shoulder. “It’s in Korean. But he keeps – watch, watch!”

“I _am_ watching.”

“Did you see?”

“Obviously.”

“Funny, right?”

“Yes.”

The night went on, and the more clutter Phichit left in his wake, the more Seung-gil felt his irritation grow. His eyebrow would twitch, fingers itch to straighten, foot bounce anxiously. Several times he tried to say something, to offhandedly mention the location of the trash can or to order Jin off the couch, but the words wouldn’t come out.

What if Phichit laughed him off, refusing to take his requests seriously? After all, they would be the ravings of a crazy person. What if he fixed one thing but not the rest? Would Seung-gil have to walk him through the entire apartment and point out every single thing he’d left out of order? Phichit would grow weary of his nagging, and piece by piece he’d…

Seung-gil didn’t want to treat Phichit like a child, but surely his actions could be construed as… childish. Would he take any mentioning of the mess as a reprimand? Or worse, would he realize the extent to which Seung-gil was “uptight,” as everyone was always so fond of telling him, and find his standards unrealistically high?

With these thoughts swirling in his head, Seung-gil’s irritation transferred not only to Phichit’s mess and his own inability to mention them, but to Phichit himself and his imagined slights. Before tonight Seung-gil had found Phichit’s boundless enthusiasm and positivity a welcome reprieve from his own darker thoughts. Now all he wanted was to lock Phichit in a closet somewhere just so he wouldn’t have to see that bright, kind, adorable, annoying face of his.

Needless to say, Seung-gil was conflicted.

Surely this frustration would wear off? It was just some initial friction at the change in dwelling. They’d always had contrasting personalities, and surely their energies would balance out given enough time. Seung-gil didn’t want to worry Phichit unnecessarily, and he didn’t want to be seen as overly critical, so he decided to keep this apprehension to himself. Phichit would notice the mess eventually and clean it up, Seung-gil’s frustration would wear off, and everything would be fine. It had to be.

\------------------------

 

When it came time to go to bed Phichit yawned, stretching his arms for unnecessarily long and allowing his shirt to ride up far too high. “I think I’m ready to sleep,” he sighed, turning his big, annoyingly warm brown eyes on Seung-gil.

He thought? He _thought_? Shouldn’t he _know_ if he’s tired? Wasn’t he an adult? Couldn’t Phichit keep his thoughts to himself for the two seconds it would take to know for sure, rather than waste Seung-gil’s time with vague _thoughts_?

“Okay, goodnight,” Seung-gil muttered distractedly, still staring at the credits for the third variety show they’d sat through together. As the evening had worn on, so had Seung-gil’s patience, until every little thing Phichit did or said triggered him into internal shouting and hair-pulling.

“Sleeping happens in a bed,” Phichit continued, leaning forward. Seung-gil could feel the weight of his stare, the press of his fingers over his clothed chest. “You know, _bed_.”

He’d never been subtle, barely ever tried to be with Seung-gil. But he wasn’t in the mood.

“You’re right, we should get ready to sleep,” he muttered, intentionally obtuse. He saw Phichit pouting out of the corner of his eye, but steadfastly ignored his unfairly cute expression in favor of leading Jin into the kitchen for some water.

No, Seung-gil was frustrated, and he wasn’t about to engage in an activity where he might inadvertently take out that frustration on Phichit without his consent. He deserved happiness and rainbows and kindness, and Seung-gil was too angry with himself and Phichit and the world to give him any of those things right now.

When he was done in the kitchen, Phichit followed him into the bedroom, leaving the TV on. Seung-gil pulled out Jin’s bed and set it next to his own in a hopefully clear message that no sexual advances would be tolerated tonight.

As he did this, Phichit watched from the doorway, hands fidgeting unnecessarily and teeth worrying his stupid bottom lip. He seemed as if he was about to say something, so Seung-gil quickly ducked into the bathroom, muttering, “I’ll take the first shower,” before closing the door on Phichit’s confused, adorable face.

He took a fast shower, scrubbing at his hair too hard and toweling off too rough. But even so, nothing was wrong. They would go to sleep tonight, and tomorrow morning Seung-gil would be a new person. Phichit would never have to know about his lapse in judgment, and they could ride off on horseback into the rainbow painted sunset together.

Seung-gil was not worried at all, and was definitely not imagining insane things due to stress.

Without sleepwear to change into due his hasty retreat, Seung-gil wrapped a towel around his waist to reenter his room. Phichit was lying on his bed, clutching one of his pillows to his chest. The other one was on the floor, covered by the sheets which were still sagging onto the carpet.

Still pouting, Phichit blinked up at him. “Are you mad at me?”

“No,” he responded promptly. Probably too promptly. He moved over to his dresser to find a shirt and boxers to sleep in.

“You’re even quieter than usual. Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he answered just as promptly as before, turning back into the bathroom with his new acquisitions instead of changing in front of his boyfriend as he would under normal circumstances.

He heard Phichit sigh from beyond the door, but he was too absorbed in his own thoughts to consider it for long. He wanted to be too busy dressing and brushing his teeth and washing his face to think about anything beyond this small bathroom. But the sighing, the questions, the sound of the mattress shifting, the TV still buzzing away in the next room – Phichit was even invading the _air_ of his apartment.

When Seung-gil reemerged, he’d lost any relaxation he may have attained from his shower. “Your turn,” he bit out, tossing him a clean towel and sitting down heavily on his side of the bed.

“Seung-gil, you’re mad,” Phichit sighed, scooting over to sit closer to him. This was _his_ side of the bed, damn it. “I can tell, you’re pretty obvious.”

“If you can tell, then why’d you even ask?” he muttered under his breath.

If Phichit heard, he didn’t act like it. “Seung-gil, come on,” he whined, leaning his head on Seung-gil’s shoulder in yet another act of invading Seung-gil’s space. “Talk to meeee.”

He held his breath, counted to ten, then sighed stiffly. “Phichit, please go shower.”

There were a few moments of tense silence, Seung-gil wound up tightly and Phichit pressing all his buttons simultaneously. Right when he thought he’d have to explain himself, have to explode in Phichit’s face, his boyfriend quietly muttered, “Okay,” even patting him on the shoulder as he left.

Seung-gil guiltily listened to the shower turn on and sighed heavily, gathering up the sheets and throwing them in the clothing hamper. They were soiled from earlier, and had been touching the floor for several hours now. The _floor_ , where dirty, disgusting feet spend all their time, and where their germs multiply in the thick carpeting. He busted out a clean set of sheets and set up the bed. He ignored Jin's whining, her instincts perfectly accurate as always.

Seung-gil felt like an ass as he neurotically – no, carefully tugged the soft linen over his mattress, but it couldn’t be helped. It was safer to bottle this up, let these negative feelings wear off on their own. They weren’t important in the grand scheme of their relationship, and he refused to allow them to get in the way of their rare weekend together – never mind that they inadvertently already were.

He was just climbing under the covers when the bathroom door opened. Too distracted with his own swirling thoughts, he hadn’t heard the shower turn off. So when a naked and slightly dripping Phichit came charging out of the bathroom and jumping onto his bed, he was more than a bit surprised.

“Ahaha, your _face_!” Phichit cackled, burrowing under the sheets and wrapping himself around Seung-gil for the second time that night. “Did I surprise you?”

“Yeah,” Seung-gil muttered, frowning. “You didn’t dry off?”

“I did!” Improperly, obviously.

Holding back his dry commentary, Seung-gil pulled him closer despite his own tension at the proximity. Maybe if he went through the motions, his feelings would take the hint. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re serious,” Phichit giggled. While he usually found the sound heartwarming, now it made him want to rip his hair out.

He huffed in irritation, then pressed a quick kiss to Phichit’s hair. In his mind, the actions balanced out.

“Goodnight,” he said, turning over and separating from Phichit in the process.

There were a few beats of silence, then an answering, “Goodnight.” He felt Phichit shuffling around on the mattress, and after a few minutes of this Seung-gil was resisting the urge to snap at him. He’d settle down any moment now, Seung-gil just had to wait it out.

Twenty-eight minutes later, Seung-gil’s irritation was mounting exponentially. Phichit couldn’t stay still for one damn minute, and he could hear him shuffling his feet, turning onto his side, changing the angle his head was pressing into his pillow. How anyone could be such a restless sleeper, he had no idea. It was horribly distracting, preventing Seung-gil from falling into even a shallow sleep.

One last foot shuffle had Seung-gil sitting up, glaring down at Phichit – who was apparently _wide awake_.

“What are you doing?” His voice was far more accusatory than he’d intended, but he supposed he couldn’t take it back now.

“I can’t sleep,” Phichit whined. “I’m too horny, and I want to cuddle, and you’re right here! Why don’t you–”

“I’m sorry for distracting you.” Seung-gil got up, grabbed up his pillow, and steadfastly ignored Phichit’s noise of surprise and Jin's distressed whine. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Wait, you don’t have to – I didn’t mean–”

The bedroom door closed behind him, the sound of Phichit’s half-formed explanations drowned out by the TV that was _still_ _on_. He stomped over to the couch, threw down his pillow, and threw himself down on top of it.

They were fine. Seung-gil could get over this.

\----------------------------------

 

The next morning, Seung-gil woke up to the sun shining in his face, the sound of the TV, and a feeling that he was being watched. Groaning and cracking open one eye, he quickly found the source of his discomfort.

Phichit was standing in the kitchen, in one of his own shirts and tiny boxers, and fidgeting with something by the kitchen counter. He alternated between glancing over at him and whatever he was holding, and Seung-gil wished he’d focus on one thing at a time.

He was obviously not over his irritation from the previous night. With a sigh, he irrationally wondered if he ever would be.

Seung-gil sat up, running his hands through his hair and over his face. “Good morning,” he called out, preferring to get the exchange over with sooner rather than later.

Jin came padding over, licking at his bare knee before sitting patiently on top of his feet, her head on his thigh. Dogs are good.

“Hey,” Phichit responded. He was about to continue, but whatever he was holding in the kitchen clattered to the bottom of Seung-gil’s sink, the sound setting his teeth on edge. “Shit, I’m – it’s not broken!”

Counting to ten in his head and ignoring every urge he had to snap at his boyfriend, Seung-gil displaced Jin by standing up, then stretched on his way to the kitchenette with Jin on his heels. Coming up behind Phichit, he stared down into his sink to see a metal chopstick sitting there. Why he had it in the first place, Seung-gil had no idea.

He could feel Phichit looking at him nervously, no doubt uncomfortable at Seung-gil’s blank face and stony silence. Good, let him be nervous. Maybe then he’d be more aware of how his actions affected others.

It was an unfair thought and he knew it, but he could do little to stop them at this point. Sighing yet again, Seung-gil moved over to the refrigerator. Phichit moved to follow him, but ultimately stayed back. Smart choice.

Jin whined, probably sensing the tension in the air. Rummaging around, Seung-gil emerged with a cup of yogurt, apple, and small strip of chicken. He dropped the meat for Jin to catch, then sat down at the counter.

Phichit frowned at this. “You’re not going to cook?”

“No,” he muttered, biting into his apple and ignoring the fact that he’d forgotten a spoon.

“But you like cooking.”

“Don’t feel like it.”

Jin whined again, laying down at Seung-gil’s feet.

Phichit bit at his lip and crossed his arms defensively. “Are we going to talk about how you’re mad at me?”

“I’m not.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. Reaching over to a side drawer, he deftly pulled out a spoon and set it down in front of Seung-gil. “Why don’t you just admit it?”

“Because it’s not true.”

Phichit sat down next to him. “You won’t even look me in the eye, come on.” He crossed his arms, defensive. “Just tell me, I can handle it.”

Seung-gil looked at him, really looked at him for the first time since they’d watched TV last night. Phichit looked troubled, eyes wide and red rimmed – did he not sleep well? He wasn’t wearing any makeup this morning, and his hair was uncharacteristically unkempt.

Perhaps this was his typical appearance in the morning? Maybe he let his messy side show before he started the day? More likely, this wasn’t the norm. Phichit usually cared about his appearance, even going so far as to stall Skype calls with him for fifteen minutes just so he could fix his hair.

Phichit cared a lot about a lot of things. He cared about his appearance because he always wanted to look good, for himself and for others and, “For my man, of course!” as he was so fond of saying despite Seung-gil's dissuasive eye rolls.

He cared about Seung-gil enough to worry over him, enough to stop caring about himself, and enough to get him a spoon even when Seung-gil was being pissy. Seung-gil felt his chest throbbed guiltily.

All the storm clouds of irritation and negative thoughts momentarily dispersed, allowing him a surprising moment of clarity considering the headspace he’d been in mere moments ago. Watching his boyfriend carefully, Seung-gil tentatively reached out to grasp his hand. The reassuring gesture worked, making Phichit’s shoulders slump with loosened tension.

“I’m sorry,” Seung-gil muttered, stroking his thumb over the back of Phichit’s hand. He squeezed back, an unspoken question that left Seung-gil burning with shame, guilt, and frustration. “It’s stupid.”

“What’s stupid?” Phichit leaned in, wide eyes forcing eye contact despite Seung-gil’s efforts to stare a hole through the floor.

“My… exasperation.”

Phichit leaned in, pulling Seung-gil’s hand into his lap. “Why are you exasperated?”

He thought about sugar coating it, or of continuing to say nothing altogether. But all that had done so far was make Seung-gil angry and Phichit insecure, apparently. Phichit deserved the truth, didn’t he? One look at his anxious, concerned expression made the decision for him.

“You’re… very messy.”

The silence was oppressive, the air hanging between them thick with some undefinable tension. Seung-gil held his breath, unable to move or think or feel anything but panic or look away from Phichit’s face. It was as if he was buffering, lagging behind Seung-gil and processing his words at a slower speed than reality.

He eventually moved, furrowing his brow and picking his words carefully. “I’m… messy?”

Seung-gil swallowed nervously, averted his gaze again, and nodded. “…Yes.”

He could hear the frown in Phichit’s voice as he sincerely asked, “Are you joking right now?”

Seung-gil’s back went rigid and he held his breath. This was it, he couldn’t turn back after this point. If he continued his trend of honesty, he’d lose the ability to play this whole conversation off as a joke. Phichit had unintentionally given him an out, and he should definitely take it.

“I’m being serious,” he muttered, screaming at himself internally.

Face paling, Phichit yanked back his hand as if burned. “I’m confused, why are you…?”

Frustration peaking, Seung-gil’s tension burst at the seams, making him practically jump off his chair and start pacing anxiously. “I know you’ve only been here for one night, but we’ve never planned to occupy the same space for anything longer than a night at a time. I’d already known that we have opposing habits and lifestyles–”

His frown deepened. “Opposing lifestyles?”

Jin barked, sitting up and watching Seung-gil’s agitated moves.

“– But because this is the first time we’ve actually decided to _live_ in the same space – as a sort of trial run for the future, of course – I had absolutely no preparation for – I didn’t think for a moment that you’d be _this_ _bad_.”

Phichit still seemed suspended in disbelief, expression lost as he mumbled distractedly, “Trial run? Wait, what do you mean ‘this bad’?”

Seung-gil was finally expressing himself, gesticulating wildly and panting slightly as his frantic feet carried him in a floor-wearing circle, unable to stop the momentum of his body and words even though it was stressing all three of them out. The floodgates were finally open, and his river of swirling conflicting emotions and thoughts flowed out, his typical filter swept up in the current. “When you got here, we were… distracted – I admit it – but the moment things settled down I didn’t want to see it, but you can be so – so – so chaotic!”

“ _Chaotic_?”

Jin barked again, backing up to stand by Phichit.

“You left all the bed linens hanging onto the floor, you leave dirty dishes in the sink, and I had to throw away my sponge because you got a _hair_ on it – do you know how much fungi and bacteria can be on a single piece of hair? A lot! You can fit 150,000 microbes on a piece of hair – and _you_ _know_ Jin isn’t allowed on the couch! The fabric is cheap and hard to clean, and even though she has a weekly bath she still has _germs_.”

Phichit sucked in a breath, no doubt ready to defend both himself and Jin, but Seung-gil bulldozed on, counting off his list on his fingers. “The tissues you used last night are still on the floor in my living room, the condoms you _said_ you’d throw away are stuck to my bedroom floor, and the TV hasn’t been shut off since you got here, when _you_ were the one to turn it on!”

Phichit glared, but his vulnerable body language didn’t match the fight in his eyes. “I didn’t realize you were so neurotic.”

Unthinkingly, he shouted, “Of course I’m _neurotic_! Everyone else knows it, I know it - have you not _met_ _me_?”

They stared at each other with wide eyes, both shocked and embarrassed. Jin started whining, shifting anxiously as she watched them watch each other.

Phichit was no doubt surprised at Seung-gil raising his voice for the first time in their relationship over a fucking sponge, and Seung-gil was… ashamed. He inadvertently said that word aloud, _Phichit_ had used it, and now he’d never be able to take it back.

“I just don’t like messes,” Seung-gil mumbled before leaving the room, fleeing into his bedroom and the adjoining bathroom, closing the door behind him.

His eyes stung as he noticed how loud his panting had gotten. It didn’t quite drown out the sound of Jin whining, probably sitting outside the bathroom door anxiously. Any other sounds in the apartment were unintelligible, and he found it calming. He wouldn’t be able to hear Phichit’s packing up and leaving, which was a good thing.

He sank down on his toilet seat, burying his nearly scalding face in his sweaty hands.

Seung-gil hadn’t said anything all night, and this is what he got. He could’ve been honest from the start, could’ve used actual words instead of assuming Phichit would understand, thinking he’d remember those late-night conversations when Seung-gil briefly admitted to being overly concerned with messes. He should’ve known Phichit wouldn’t think much of it, wouldn’t recognize how incompatible their habits were and try to change his ways to suit Seung-gil. He should’ve known he’d have to be the one to change for this relationship, because Phichit hadn’t really done anything wrong. No, Seung-gil was the one who couldn’t handle a fucking hair on a fucking sponge.

Seung-gil should’ve known he was too uptight – too _neurotic_ for a relationship with someone kind and warm and lively like Phichit. Everything seemed to be imploding in slow motion, but maybe it was for the best that Seung-gil managed to stall their breakup for an extra twelve hours. Even though he’d spent his time annoyed, at least he’d had Phichit.

He didn’t know how long he’d sat there, drowning in miserable resignation and sorrow, breathing shakily and vision swimming around the edges. Some unknown amount of time later, a knock on the door and Jin barking jolted him back to reality.

“Seung-gil, can we talk?" There was a short pause. "Again?"

He shook his head, words failing him. He had to reply, otherwise Phichit would grow impatient and even angrier than he already was at Seung-gil’s immaturity. But it was too pitiful for their relationship to officially end over something as inane as unwashed dishes, and he couldn't bring himself to say anything.

“Are you okay?” He shook his head again, embarrassment and shame overriding his urgency to respond.

“Is the door locked?” Was it? “Can I come in?” Seung-gil wanted to shout no, wanted to lock the door and avoid this weekend he’d made so unbearable and apologize to Phichit for shouting. But thoughts were only thoughts, and Phichit opened the door against his silent wishes.

He must make quite the picture, sitting on the toilet and hiding in his hands.

“Seung-gil,” he gasped, moving in front of him and kneeling on the cold tiles. Jin followed him and sat whining nearby. What a good dog. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

He shook his head. At least this time the motion wasn’t useless.

Phichit’s hands came up to gently hold his, moving them down and squeezing their fingers together. “Seung-gil, talk to me. Are… are you okay?”

Ducking his head, he mumbled, “I’m sorry.”

“…What?”

“I shouldn’t be so…”

“Hah…?”

He swallowed around a dry throat and whispered, “Neurotic.”

“Seung-gil, look at me please?”

He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to see the pity in Phichit’s eyes, the irritation at his inability to compromise. Phichit would never feel comfortable in his space ever again. He’d tell Seung-gil they were too different, that they’d never work out in the long run, that he was too _crazy_ to handle another person with care and respect.

Seung-gil was going to have his heart broken and world shattered while sitting on his toilet.

“Seung-gil, why are you crying?”

He tried to turn away at the harsh sound of Jin’s bark, but Phichit grabbed his shoulders in a surprisingly strong grip.

“Sweetheart, why are you so upset about this? I didn’t mean to – I cleaned up the mess while you were in here.” Phichit’s voice broke, but he swallowed audibly and went on. “It’s all gone, and the sheets and pillow cases are all in the washing machine. Does that… help?”

Seung-gil stilled, focusing on keeping his breaths deep enough. He was steadfastly ignoring Jin’s whines, and the steady drip of liquid off his cheeks, the droplets darkening the fabric of his pants.

Voice shaky, Phichit whispered, “Seung-gil, I don’t know how to fix this. Talk to me, please?”

He breathed deeply once, twice. Jin nosed her way between them, pressing her head on top of his knee as she continued to whine. He ran his fingers absently over a fluffy ear, the motion grounding him enough to finally look up at Phichit.

He was visibly upset, but not in the way Seung-gil had thought. He’d expected frustration, perhaps annoyance, pity, anger, maybe even disappointment or exasperation. But not desperation or panic, not concern or sadness. The feelings swirling in Phichit’s eyes were tearing at Seung-gil’s chest, squeezing and momentarily stealing his breath away.

Seung-gil probably looked insane, eyes overflowing and expression surprised with his hand buried in his dog’s fur, but his voice was surprisingly steady as he unthinkingly muttered the first thing that popped into his head. “I’m sorry for yelling earlier.”

Phichit took in a shaky breath, eyes wide and mouth pressed into a thin line. He suddenly threw himself forward, wrapping his arms around Seung-gil’s shoulders. “Why are you _apologizing_?” he practically screamed into Seung-gil’s neck, squeezing him tightly. His shoulders were shaking, his legs awkwardly stretched to press more of his body closer.

Seung-gil tuned out Jin’s barking and growls. He felt his tears stop as Phichit’s started, and he wrapped his arms around Phichit’s back and rubbed circles into it disbelievingly. “I was immature.”

“ _I_ was immature!”

“I should’ve said something last night.”

“I should’ve noticed my own damn mess!”

“I shouldn’t care so much about–”

“It’s not like you can help it! And it’s not an inconvenience for me to clean up my own shit.”

“I shouldn’t have gotten so angry about it.”

“I should’ve pressed more for you to talk about it.” Phichit sniffled, pulling back to wipe at his own watering eyes. The sight made Seung-gil want to keep him close, cup his jaw tenderly and press kisses to his wet cheeks, tell him he was wonderful and perfect. But Seung-gil’s unsteady heart told him now wasn’t the best time.

Phichit’s wobbly voice continued, “I’d already known how you are about these – these kinds of things. We’d had that one skype call and you’d been so embarrassed, but I didn’t even – I wasn’t thinking Seung-gil, please don’t be upset with me,” he finished on a half sob, and Seung-gil felt his heart shatter for an entirely different reason than he’d anticipated mere minutes ago.

“I’m not,” he mumbled, gently running his fingers through Phichit’s hair and pressing a kiss to his temple. “I was, but I’m not. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Phichit exclaimed, pulling away far enough to stare Seung-gil down in an effort to maximize his impact as he spat out, “If it matters to you, then it’s _never_ _stupid_. Just _tell_ _me_ , I can handle it!”

Speechless, Seung-gil nodded. Phichit sniffled, hands weakly cupping his jaw and thumbs swiping away the cold tear tracks on his cheeks.

“I want you to be able to tell me when you’re upset, even if it’s over little things, or things I’ve done, okay?” He nodded again, and Phichit moved his hands to loosely grasp the front of Seung-gil’s shirt. “We have to be honest with each other, even over things that we’d both rather ignore. Otherwise you’ll wind up bottling everything up and getting worked up and blowing everything out of proportion. And I’ll overthink things and imagine the worst-case scenario and make an ass out of myself. Okay?”

With a shuddering breath, Seung-gil responded, “Okay.”

After a few heavy breaths Phichit’s face melted into an expression of warmth, kindness, and relief. Seung-gil’s whole body _ached_. “Good,” he sighed, tenderly pushing some of Seung-gil’s hair behind his ear. “You had me so worried.”

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. He couldn’t resist pulling Phichit back in for a hug, and he relaxed at the sound of Phichit sighing in contentment.

“Stop apologizing, I already forgave you.”

With Phichit between his legs, he was in the perfect position to hold him in place with his knees. Seung-gil needed to make sure Phichit didn’t move for at least five minutes, or maybe five years; however long it took for his brain to fully comprehend that he still had all of this.

Phichit nuzzled the underside of his jaw and left a lingering kiss to the skin there. “Are we okay now?

Seung-gil held him tighter, pressing his face into Phichit’s soft, citrus-scented hair. “Are we?”

“Yeah. Well, I want us to be.”

“I do too. You…” He swallowed nervously, still not entirely trusting his feelings to all the endorphins rushing through his body. “You matter a lot to me.”

“Yeah?” Phichit pulled back and smiled sweetly up at him, fingers absently stroking along his jaw and neck. “The feeling’s mutual,” he murmured before quickly kissing Seung-gil on the cheek. He watched whatever face Seung-gil made and smiled even wider, playfully pressing another kiss closer to his mouth, and another against the corner of Seung-gil’s now upturned lips.

Pulling back to study Seung-gil’s expression, Phichit sighed even as he smiled into the kiss he pressed to Seung-gil’s lips. One of them groaned, or both of them did – who cared, really? Nothing else mattered when Phichit’s soft, warm lips were moving against his. All that mattered was his hands cupping Seung-gil’s neck, his tongue running along his bottom lip, the small breaths he managed through his nose, the way his fingers restlessly traced over Seung-gil’s skin, and the way he slipped his tongue into Seung-gil’s mouth.

With everything that had happened, all that mattered was Phichit being happy and wanting to keep Seung-gil despite his… inclinations. He hadn’t ruined everything, and they’d survived their first fight.

After what surely must have only been a few minutes, despite how many hours his brain insisted the kiss had lasted, Phichit pressed his forehead to Seung-gil’s, breaths puffing along his lips and tempting Seung-gil to close the distance again.

He leaned up to Seung-gil’s ear, lips brushing the shell of it as he whispered, “You know what the best thing is about our first real fight?”

Seung-gil hummed, a shiver running up his spine at Phichit’s tone. “What?”

“It happened in person.”

His hands settled on Phichit’s hips, fingers twitching to pull him closer. “…So?”

Phichit pulled back to grin up at Seung-gil’s furrowed brow. “That means we get to have make-up sex!”

Seung-gil couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing, wiping at his eyes as Phichit looked on in equal parts amusement and mock-indignation.

“Are you laughing about having sex with me?” He wrapped a hand behind Seung-gil’s neck and stroked the skin there lovingly, smiling up at him.

“I can’t believe – you said it so – you’re _so_ _easy_!”

“ _What_?” Phichit’s indignation would’ve been a lot more believable if he hadn’t been smiling widely at Seung-gil’s laughter. “I’ll have you know, I’ve held out admirably since last night!” He mock pouted, sitting back on the tile and crossing his arms petulantly. “You’ll have to be very lucky to get in my pants now, jerk.”

Still chuckling to himself, Seung-gil stood up and reached a hand out for him. “You’re right, I’d be very lucky,” he replied, grinning at the blush that spread over Phichit’s cheeks.

Taking his offered hand, Phichit whined, “You were just crying five minutes ago. How are you so smooth? It makes me look bad.”

Seung-gil pulled him in close to wrap an arm around his waist, then pressed in for another deep kiss. He sighed at the tidal wave of relief surging through him, at the feeling of Phichit’s arms around his shoulders and mouth opening pliantly underneath his.

Jin’s sudden bark had them jumping apart. Phichit giggled nervously, bending down and thanking Jin for her support. Seung-Gil frowned, wondering what had happened when he'd left for the couch last night.

He was absolutely not jealous of the hug his dog was getting, that would be ridiculous.

“We’ll take her out later,” Phichit said, looking up at him from under his eyelashes. “Stay right here?”

Seung-gil waited as Phichit called for Jin and walked out of the bathroom. Jin looked up at Seung-gil for a moment, barked, and followed Phichit out into the kitchen. What a good dog.

When Phichit returned, he gave Seung-gil a dark look and backed him up against his bathroom counter. He smirked playfully, eyes twinkling. “Now, where were we?”

“I think we were–” There were worse ways to be interrupted than with a kiss.

Seung-gil cupped Phichit’s jaw, tilting his head back so he could more easily dominate the kiss. Phichit shuddered in his arms, letting out tiny gasps as his hands grasped at Seung-gil’s back.

Against all the odds, Seung-gil hadn’t ruined their relationship. He’d been honest, and the world somehow hadn’t ended. Phichit had been incredibly understanding and kind, even going so far as to clean his apartment in apology.

 _Wait_.

“Phichit,” he broke away, slightly breathless and running his hands restlessly over Phichit’s shoulders. “Did you say you put my sheets in the wash?”

Phichit bit his pink lip, gaze suggestive at the unintended implication. “Don’t worry, I put out a fresh set.”

“No, I mean…” He swallowed nervously, but didn’t avert his gaze. “Which bottle of soap did you use?”

Blinking confusedly up at him, Phichit hedged, “The green one…?”

Seung-gil groaned, flipping them to pin Phichit to the counter. Nipping at his ear earned him a small yelp, and Phichit’s hands came up to rest on his biceps.

“Does that mean I picked the right one?” Phichit asked, voice an odd, breathy combination of nerves and arousal.

Seung-gil ground his hips forward eagerly, making them both gasp. “Yes,” he hissed, sinking his teeth into Phichit’s neck.

“Ah, Seung-gil can we – _ah_!”

He smirked at the reaction grabbing Phichit’s tight ass had gotten him. He lifted one of Phichit’s legs to wrap around his waist as he leaned forward and whisper huskily in Phichit’s ear, “Where did you put your dirty clothes?”

“I – I think I –” Phichit groaned, tossing his head back as Seung-gil rocked their hips together again. “I put them in your laundry hamper.”

“With my clothes?”

“Yeah, was that… is that okay?”

Seung-gil nodded, pressing his lips up his neck and running his teeth lightly along Phichit’s jaw. “It’s hot.”

“What – what is?”

“Imagining your dirty clothes with mine,” Seung-gil muttered, biting down on the pink lobe of his ear.

He couldn’t resist Phichit’s laughter on a normal day, so when Phichit giggled breathlessly at Seung-gil’s unexpected kink for shared laundry, he was forced to take drastic measures. With a quick shift of his hands and an effortless lift, Seung-gil was cradled between Phichit’s thighs as he sat on the edge of the countertop. He ran his hands over Phichit’s thighs, squeezing and groping until he found his way back to easily rest on Phichit’s hips.

Looking up at Phichit biting his kiss-swollen lip, eyes half-lidded and cheeks flushed, was probably the most perfect thing Seung-gil had ever seen.

Phichit flushed even darker at whatever look Seung-gil was giving him, then pulled him in by the front of his shirt to somehow bring them impossibly closer. Now it was his turn to whisper into Seung-gil’s ear, “If you want, we can do laundry together later.”

He groaned alarmingly loud at that, hands pulling Phichit further towards the counter’s edge to give their erections some sort of mutual relief. “I _want_ _that_.”

“You can explain all four of the soap bottles I saw,” Phichit muttered, kissing and nipping his way along Seung-gil’s jaw. “And after that you can show me how you fold your clothes.”

Seung-gil grabbed Phichit’s ass in both hands and nearly slammed their crotches together. They both gasped and continued rocking together, Phichit’s arms a tight weight around his neck. Some of the bottles on Seung-gil’s counter top fell over, one rolling onto the floor. While he was touched that Phichit looked nervously between the bottles and Seung-gil, he couldn’t care less about tidiness right now.

“Can I show you where I keep all my cleaning supplies?” He asked, voice embarrassingly rough.

Phichit frantically nodded, cupping his jaw and sighing against Seung-gil’s cheek. “Anything, show me anything.”

“There are some in every room,” he muttered, slipping his hands under Phichit’s thighs to lift him up and off the counter. “And I can show you the website I get cleaning tips from.”

“Please,” Phichit moaned, eagerly nipping along Seung-gil’s jaw, arms and legs tightly squeezing Seung-gil as he carried him out of the bathroom. “All of that, please.”

A stray thought tried to make itself known, but Seung-gil was too distracted sucking his own mark onto Phichit’s neck to give it much attention. How could he when Phichit was arching his back like that and moaning shamelessly, all for him?

Seung-gil dropped him on the mattress and quickly followed, pressing his weight over his panting boyfriend, who was currently enthusiastically pulling him in by the hips to line them up.

“Is it weird how hot this is?” Seung-gil asked, panting against Phichit’s collarbone. “The idea of doing chores with you is too hot.”

“Maybe, but who cares?” Phichit wrapped his arms around Seung-gil’s back and whined, “I just want to be closer to you, babe.”

As the stray thought solidified, Seung-gil felt as if he’d been struck by lightning. Freezing while looking down into Phichit’s sincere, dazed eyes, he couldn’t ignore the implication behind his words. He wanted to be closer to him… even like that?

Voice low, Seung-gil unsteadily asked, “Are you actually being serious?”

Phichit glanced away nervously, but nodded. “I want to… to know these things about you. You can talk to me about – well, everything. And I want to make it… easier for you.”

This wasn’t all just some weird in-the-moment sex thing. This was Phichit accepting his flaws, wanting to make them more manageable. This was Phichit saying that his neurosis wasn’t craziness, it was just a part of him. A part that he accepted, and wanted to interact with.

Exhaling shakily, he frantically leaned back to more easily pull off Phichit’s shirt and pants at the same time.

“Seung-gil, don’t – one at a time, come on,” Phichit giggled.

“Want to be closer too,” he muttered, pressing open-mouth kisses to tan skin as it was revealed. He kissed and bit at Phichit’s delicate hip bones as his hands dipped lower, rubbing teasingly against the hardness under Phichit’s boxers. “Want more of you too, Phichit.”

“Yeah, more,” Phichit moaned, fingers caressing through his hair and tugging lightly. “More, now!”

Sitting up in an attempt to partially clear his head, Seung-gil ripped off Phichit’s shirt in one swift movement. Leaning down to lick and bite at his exposed nipples, he traced his fingers lightly along his lean abs, slipping under the hem of his loose sweatpants and tugging the fabric past his knees with one hand, the other coming back to stroke along the waistband of his boxers.

Phichit keened at the teasing attention, panting harshly into the still air of the room and biting back his sweet moans and whimpers. With each new sound Seung-gil felt his blood pound faster through his veins, his body thrumming with the need to be _closer_.

“This too,” Phichit whined, tugging weakly at Seung-gil’s shirt. “Take it off.”

“Not yet,” he answered, biting down on Phichit’s other nipple as he finished sliding off Phichit’s pants, earning a gasp for his efforts.

Phichit wrapped a leg behind him and bucked his hips, desperately seeking any relief from the heat radiating off their bodies. He grabbed Seung-gil’s shirt and yanked it up, getting it successfully off one arm but getting it caught on his neck. Phichit didn’t seem to mind, as his fingers skimmed along Seung-gil’s chest and teasingly ran over his nipples before circling around to his exposed back.

He tugged him down roughly to run his teeth over Seung-gil’s ear, nipping and biting between shallow breaths. “Take it _off_ ,” he ordered, voice suddenly steady.

Seung-gil shuddered, lost in a storm of desire and appreciating Phichit’s ability to give him some clarity by taking charge. He pulled his shirt off the rest of the way, sighing as Phichit carefully ran his hands up and over his bared shoulders.

“You’re so gorgeous, so handsome,” Phichit whined, fingers tugging and pulling to bring their mouths back together. Just as Seung-gil was zoning out into the kiss, focused on balancing the sensations and heat with the need to breathe, Phichit yanked on his shoulders to flip them over.

Seung-gil went willingly, groaning lowly and pulling his hair to crash their mouths together. He dipped his hands into Phichit’s tight boxers to roughly grab his ass. Phichit gasped and ground down into Seung-gil’s hips, both of them hissing at the hard friction.

“Scoot back,” Phichit panted, pushing slightly at one of Seung-gil’s arms to get the message across. “And sit up against the headboard.”

He did as he was told, grateful to find his face much closer to Phichit’s in this position.

“Wanna kiss you while we do it,” Phichit murmured, biting his lip and raking his fingers through Seung-gil’s hair. “While we fuck.”

Nodding in agreement, Seung-gil lightly pat both his ass cheeks and squeezed. “Lube? Condom”

Phichit shook his head where it rested on Seung-gil’s shoulder, arching back into his touch. “No condom, wanna feel you.” He ground his hips down again, making them both pant. “And you should get the lube. I’m a – _ah_ – guest in your home.”

“Sure,” he muttered, lightheaded and having a hard time following his words. “Give me a second.”

He leaned over to dig around his bedside table. Phichit took the opportunity to bite a path from his shoulder to his collarbone, sucking and licking and being far too distracting.

“If you don’t stop for five seconds, I’m never going to find the lube,” Seung-gil huffed, voice low and embarrassingly unsteady.

Phichit nuzzled his jaw in apology. “But you’re so gorgeous, how can I keep my mouth to myself?”

“Stop that,” he weakly protested, finally wrapping his fingers around the small bottle.

“Make me,” Phichit teased, giggling at the dark look he got in return. “Give my mouth something else to do.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Obviously,” Phichit giggled teasingly. “Have you even met me?”

Seung-gil reached out to run his hands down Phichit’s chest, pinching his nipples teasingly at having his earlier words echoed back at him and earning a shaky sigh for his efforts. "I don’t get you sometimes,” he muttered, absently fiddling with the waistband above Phichit’s crotch.

This whole weekend, Seung-gil had thought he'd known best. Despite all his experience with Phichit, he'd woefully misjudged his boyfriend's capacity for tolerance and acceptance. It had taken Seung-gil overcoming his own reservations to see that Phichit had nothing but open arms and a warm smile for his issues, which was... overwhelming.

Phichit (perhaps rightfully so, considering their present activity) was not weighing himself down with vague relationship revelations. He just shivered at the attention of his distracted fingers, pressing his hips forward in an overt invitation. “What’s not to get? I’m a pretty simple guy.”

The idea was genuinely laughable. "No, you’re complex,” Seung-gil countered, pecking a kiss on his cheek. “You’re warm,” he kissed his forehead. “And compassionate,” he kissed his nose. “And beautiful,” he finished, chastely kissing Phichit’s lips.

When he pulled back, blushing at his surprising sentimentality, Phichit was looking at him as if he’d hung the stars in the sky, brown eyes wide and shining, cheeks pink enough to rival his own.

“Stunning,” he finished, ignoring his own embarrassment to smile happily up at Phichit’s starry-eyed expression.

“How do you just _say these things_?” Phichit hid his blushing face in Seung-gil’s shoulder, wrapping his arms tightly around his neck. “You’re so _extra_.”

Seung-gil would always happily overcome his own emotional awkwardness to make Phichit smile. “…Thanks?”

“You’re welcome,” he huffed, gently running his fingers through Seung-gil’s hair. “Now do something with the lube you just spent years finding.”

Seung-gil chuckled at that, popping the cap on the lube as he kissed the side of Phichit’s head. “What should I do with it?”

“Huh?” Phichit turned his head, eyes unfocused and cheeks bright red.

Seung-gil smirked. “What do you want me to do with the lube?”

Phichit mock-pouted, his eyes giving away his amusement. He was used to this game Seung-gil enjoyed playing, but always resisted at first. “Don’t make me say it.”

“If you don’t say it, then how am I supposed to know what to do?”

“Seung-gil!”

“Does it go on your arm?”

“ _Seung-gil_!”

He lifted an eyebrow teasingly. “Hm?”

Unable to hide his smirk anymore, Phichit leaned forward so his words ghosted over Seung-gil’s lips. Eyes dark with desire, he murmured, “Put it on your fingers, and open up my ass with them.”

“Hmm? And then what?”

Biting his lip, Phichit glanced away in apparent embarrassment. Just when Seung-gil was about to ask if everything was still okay, Phichit leaned up to his ear and murmured, “Then you fuck me with your cock, and make me come untouched while I ride you.”

Seung-gil felt his toes curl, a shiver running up his spine as his blood rushed loudly in his ears. “Ah, I get it now,” he answered breathlessly, watching Phichit’s eyes steadily watch him back.

“Can you do that?”

“Yeah.”

He grinned, blushing even darker. “Now?”

“Yeah.”

Seung-gil leaned forward to kiss him, their mouths moving hungrily, teeth scraping, tongues shoving and sliding for dominance. Phichit was _delicious_.

He drizzled some lube over his fingers, rubbing them together to warm the liquid as he pulled back Phichit’s boxers with his other hand. He spread his cheeks apart, running one of his wet fingers teasingly across his hole, making him twitch and gasp.

“Don’t tease me,” Phichit whined, pressing their foreheads together. “Take them off. Want you inside me.”

“Okay,” Seung-gil easily agreed, content to speed this up.

He took a moment to slide off his boxers, Phichit shifting to the side to help him. When he was finally naked, leaking cock jutting up, petite hips begging for his fingers, Seung-gil nearly abandoned everything to throw him back and sink his mouth down on him.

Instead he grabbed a hip to bring them close together. Phichit leaned his weight forward, braced against Seung-gil’s shoulders as he ran his middle finger down the cleft of his ass. He rubbed it back and forth over his entrance, making Phichit shiver and squirm in his arms.

“Seung-gil,” he whimpered, eyes squeezed shut.

With a shudder, Seung-gil pushed inside, loving the heat and tension that met his finger, adoring the small puffs of air Phichit released as he sank deeper. He didn’t need as much prep because they’d had sex last night, but Seung-gil still planned on being thorough. He wasn’t going to take any chances.

When Phichit finally opened his eyes and nodded eagerly, he pulled the finger back and pushed in a little harder, repeating the motion and swirling it a few times while Phichit canted his hips back to meet the motion.

“More, I want – gimme more,” Phichit moaned, shameless and loud and breathtaking.

Seung-gil slowly pushed another finger in alongside the first, and this time when Phichit tensed it took a little more coaxing to relax him. He ran his free hand up Phichit’s back, then back down to stop and squeeze his round ass.

He yelped, crying out. “Ah – Seung- _gil_!”

Understanding what he was ineffectively saying, Seung-gil crooked his fingers on a thrust in, making Phichit moan and arch his back.

“More, please Seung-gil, babe I need more.” He was babbling frantically, clenching his needy hands on Seung-gil’s shoulders and panting harshly into his neck, the warmth of their chests pressing insistently together a welcome sensation despite how much heat there already was. Seung-gil started to press down on his prostate with every thrust of his fingers, slipping in a third without Phichit seeming to notice.

“Now, it’s fine! Just – _ahhh_ – just do it now!”

Seung-gil pressed a kiss to his cheek and teasingly asked, “Do what?”

“ _Fuck_ _me_!” Phichit shouted, shoving his hips back and forth wantonly, rutting his dick against Seung-gil’s abdomen. “Fuck me, Seung-gil! I need you in me, need your cock–”

“Shit…” He removed his fingers, finally taking a moment to look down at himself. “Um, I’m still wearing pants.”

“ _Why_?” Phichit angrily sat back. Looking own at Seung-gil’s clothed crotch, Phichit practically gnashed his teeth together. “Why do you _do this to me_?”

Seung-gil smiled at his red face and tempting lips, momentarily distracted before his gym shorts and boxers were forcefully shoved down. “I was otherwise occupied,” he hissed, cold air hitting his dick suddenly.

“Blah blah, all I hear are excuses,” Phichit mock-pouted, then licked his lips as he eyed Seung-gil’s flushed, leaking cock. “Hello there, old friend.”

He frowned. “Don’t talk to my penis.”

Phichit’s eyes were practically dancing with good humor as he shifted to pull Seung-gil’s clothing off the rest of the way. “Aw, but we’re so friendly with each other!”

Seung-gil rolled his eyes, not even trying to stop his smile. “Whatever.”

“So am I finally going to get fucked?”

“Sure.”

“Thank _god_ ,” Phichit groaned, taking the lube out of Seung-gil’s hand and enthusiastically pouring it directly onto his dick. He gasped at the cool liquid, then bit back a groan as Phichit worked his hand over him in teasingly light strokes.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Seung-gil bit out, hips jumping under the scarce friction. At this point, he worried that a stiff breeze would be enough to cut this short.

Phichit grinned at him, probably guessing at Seung-gil’s thoughts. He lifted himself up, thighs tensing invitingly under Seung-gil’s hands. He ran one hand around Seung-gil’s shoulder and neck as the other steadied his dick, head pressing readily against the wet heat of his entrance. 

“Ready?" Phichit waited for his nod, then dropped down on Seung-gil’s cock in one smooth, unexpected movement. They both cried out, Phichit throwing his head back and smiling at the desperate hands clutching his hips.

“Holy shit,” Seung-gil cursed, glaring half-heartedly up at his stupid, amazing boyfriend. “ _Warn_ a guy.”

“I’m dead,” Phichit moaned, apparently ignoring him as he lifted his hips slowly, muscles clenching under Seung-gil’s tight grip, then dropped himself again, insides twitching around Seung-gil’s length. “I’m dead, and this is heaven, and I’m _dead_.”

“Stop saying you’re dead, it's weird,” Seung-gil huffed, smile ruining his chastising. The heat, the pressure, the tension, it was all so _good_.

“ _Heaven_ ,” Phichit moaned loudly, rocking back and making them both gasp.

Seung-gil chuckled, snapping his hips up once teasingly. “Does that make me an angel?”

“Sure, whatever, but only if you _get moving!”_

Seung-gil panted out a laugh as he thrust up, roughly pulling Phichit’s hips down to make him break off his moan with an even louder one. His limbs were tingling and his stomach was tensing, reveling in the amazing pressure and heat of Phichit’s ass, the sweet noises he made as he shamelessly bounced on his lap, and the steady rocking of their bodies together.

“You’re so good, Phichit,” he groaned, biting and sucking a mark into his collarbone to hide some of his own low groans. “You’re so _good_.”

“Ah – Seung – mff – faster?” Phicht started babbling, words muffled against his hand as he futilely tried to control his volume. “I know I said I’d – ah – ride you, but please – I need–!”

“ _Anything_ ," he muttered, yanking Phichit in by his hair for a sloppy kiss, making them both moan, before driving in faster. Pulling Phichit down with more force, he was probably bruising his hips and ass under the harsh grip of his fingers, but neither of them seemed to care. Even vaguely recalling earlier that morning had Seung-gil gripping tighter, the memory of the cold seat of his toilet making him desperate to see Phichit’s expressions and hear his pleasure as he drove them both higher.

“Seung, you’re so – ah – _perfect_!” Phichit leaned back as he moaned unashamedly, voice breaking as his hips jerked unevenly. He’d been reduced to simply taking Seung-gil’s thrusts, hips pliant and willing under the force, but still moving to seek whatever friction he could against Seung-gil’s stomach. “You’re perfect, and mine – you’re _mine_!”

“Yours,” Seung-gil groaned, the sound dragged out of him. “I’m yours, Phichit.”

“You’re so good – ah, Seung- _gil_!” Phichit was shouting, eyes watering at the corners as he struggled to keep them open, alternating between Seung-gil’s face and down where their bodies were attached, the crude noises nearly drowned out by their pants. His mouth was drooling slightly, hair swept back and sweaty at his temples, his cheeks and chest flushed a deep pink, his back arched beautifully and head thrown back wildly. He was absolutely gorgeous, and Seung-gil told him as much.

Phichit keened, scratching his fingers over Seung-gil’s shoulders. “More, I need – I need more!”

“You’re so good for me, sweetheart,” he murmured kindly, embarrassed but determined to shower Phichit in affection even as he sped up their punishing pace. “You’re mine too.”

Phichit moaned, loud and long. His body twitched as he shouted, “ _Ah_ , I’m gonna – Seung – _ahhh_ ,” drawing out his name and losing it in a shuddering sigh.

Seung-gil biting down on his collarbone was all it took to push Phichit over the edge. His hips twitched and he threw his head back, his cock pulsing come messily over their stomachs. His loud moans and whines were nearly swallowed up by Seung-gil’s lips as he pulled them in for a frantic, wonderful kiss.

Phichit sighed shakily into him, his ass clenching tighter around his cock with the aftershocks. He tugged on Seung-gil’s hair roughly and rocked his hips just so, and with a groan Seung-gil came inside him, burying his face in his neck and squeezing his arms around his waist as he drove even deeper into him, chasing the feeling of his climax cresting and falling addictively.

His hips finally slowed, but he kept Phichit in his arms, sighing into his neck as he crushed him to his chest even tighter. He loved the sound of their mingled panting, the sensation of sweat that wasn’t entirely his cooling on his skin.

Phichit had his arms around his shoulders, fingers carding gently through the hair at the nape of his neck. A small tug had Seung-gil moving back to look up into his flushed, grinning face.

He couldn’t resist kissing that smile, tenderly cradling Phichit’s jaw and working their tongues alongside one another. Even though they were both still out of breath, the kiss was exactly what they needed.

Eventually Phichit pulled back and pressed a quick peck to his forehead. “That was amazing.” His voice was shaky from overuse. Seung-gil irrationally wanted the sound as his ringtone. “We should fight more.”

“No way,” he muttered, pulling back to look up into Phichit’s smiling face. He responded with a smile of his own, small and just for Phichit. “I don’t like fighting with you.”

“I guess you’re right,” Phichit sighed, rolling his eyes as he toyed with Seung-gil’s hair.

“…But the sex was worth it.”

“Right?”

Seung-gil shifted them both onto their sides, Phichit curling into his side and nuzzling at his chest. He closed his eyes and sighed, content with the feeling of fingers skating over his skin and light breaths tickling his neck.

After a few blissful moments of mutual affection, he felt Phichit move, propping himself up to look down at him. “Hey Seung-gil?”

“Hm?” He was feeling sleepy, but patted Phichit’s side to let him know he was awake.

“I know we already made up, but…”

Seung-gil’s eyes snapped open, and he watched Phichit nervously chew on his bottom lip.

“But what?”

“I’m…” He sighed, “Not always as careful as I should be.”

Seung-gil felt his stomach tighten anxiously. “Okay?”

“So if I do something wrong… please tell me?”

He sighed, gently stroking his cheek. “Of course. I learned my lesson.”

Phichit nodded, expression still unsure.

“What else is on your mind?”

“I was wondering…” He met Seung-gil’s eyes for a moment, then distracted himself with running his fingers over his nipple. “Was my messiness… the only thing you were mad about?”

Brow furrowed, Seung-gil frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean – well, I guess you were just taking it out on everything I did, but I really – is that the only issue you have with me? Really?”

He nodded, nervous at Phichit’s trepidation. He’d really taken Seung-gil’s behavior to heart, and not for the first time he considered how much he’d made Phichit worry. He’d selfishly thought he knew the best way to handle the situation, running away from the problem in order to spare Phichit’s feelings. If anything, his actions had been the most destructive option, making Phichit doubt their relationship rather than simply bringing attention to a single flaw of his.

And even then, Phichit’s messiness wasn’t really a flaw, per se. After all, if he was any different, the universe might have worked in such a way as to keep them apart. Seung-gil couldn’t find it in himself to regret anything about Phichit, because him being exactly who he is brought them both to this moment.

“Well,” he started, pushing away his sappy thoughts and running a hand soothingly up Phichit’s back. Perhaps he was partially compromised from the thrill of surviving their first fight, as he found himself in an unusually light mood despite Phichit's concerns. This floating feeling helped him form a harmless plan, one that made him smirk teasingly despite the resulting continuation of his uncharacteristic sentimentality. “There are some other things.”

Phichit’s face fell, but he never ran away like Seung-gil. "Like what?”

“I take issue with how handsome you are.” Seung-gil grinned at the way Phichit’s mouth went slack in surprise, wide eyes watching Seung-gil intently. “Also your face is annoyingly perfect, so if you could change it or wear a bag, I’d greatly appreciate–”

“Oh my _god_ , I thought you were being serious for a second!” Phichit rolled his eyes, lips twitching up into a smile.

“I also hate how cute you are.”

“Stop it!”

“Is it possible to resent someone for how compassionate and patient they are?”

“Can you please–”

“Also your ass is too perfect and firm, please return it to whatever god bestowed it–”

“Who _are_ you?”

“Are you okay with me hating your gorgeous smile? Because I do.”

“ _Stooop_!” Phichit had devolved into giggles, lightly slapping Seung-gil’s arm and burying his flushed face against his neck.

Plan successful, Seung-gil sighed contentedly. “Glad we cleared the air.”

“You’re so _embarrassing_!”

“Oh, am I? My bad.” His happy tone probably hurt his credibility, but he didn’t particularly care.

Phichit laughed, kissing his cheek tenderly. “No one ever believes me when I say you’re a romantic.”

Before pressing a kiss to Phichit’s smiling lips, Seung-gil muttered, “And they never will.”

Despite its somewhat unsteady start, the weekend turned out to be a good one. Jin eventually got the walk she’d earned, and Seung-gil got a lot of laundry done. It helped to have the extra set of hands, even if they were distracting more often than not.

Although Phichit started paying more attention to leaving messes behind, he’d still occasionally leave food out on the counter or keep a cabinet propped open. Seung-gil learned that he was far less bothered by it when he got kisses in apology. And if Seung-gil left dirty dishes in the sink or let Jin up on the couch – well, they were both making concessions, and he happily learned that grateful kisses were just as sweet.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me a comment or kudos, they validate me and my continued quest to write for a wonderful ship that gets almost no attention <3


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